


Ficlets

by allierrachelle



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-11
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-08-08 00:38:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7736281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allierrachelle/pseuds/allierrachelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few short works originally posted on my tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Surrender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laurent says I love you for the first time.
> 
> Based on [**this post**](http://kinqlaurent.tumblr.com/post/144560173611/okay-but-can-you-imagine-laurent-telling-damen-he)

Damen was light on his feet, which never ceased to surprise Laurent. He could move uncharacteristically well for someone of his size, but Laurent’s agile steps were still quicker. Their regular sparring sessions had added to his arms and his chest, even if only slightly, and it added a surety to his movements that he did not used to have. His strikes were not as forceful as his counterpart’s, but they were certainly stronger than they used to be due to the time he had spent training in recent months.

The issue was that he had been training with Damen; he had picked up some of his style so Damen could counter every move he made with relative ease. It was horribly frustrating to feel like he had made improvements with his skills, only to have them be equaled by someone twice his size. Not once had he been able to force Damen to surrender.

“Stop using that move,” Damen advised after blocking an attempted blow to the side of his torso. “I’m the one that taught it to you.”

“Stop blocking it,” Laurent huffed. Damen laughed, happily and brilliantly; Laurent tried not to notice. Sparring with Damen was distracting if he allowed it to be.

“I am supposed to let you divide me in half?”

“You are the one who insists on doing this without armor,” Laurent noted, lingering a few paces outside of Damen’s range.

“It’s constraining. It would slow me down, as it does you,” Damen explained. He took a series of steps forward, watching Laurent’s glare at him as he did so.

“Sparring without armor is arrogant.”

“That’s why you’re losing,” Damen jested, which earned him a quick blow towards his neck that he blocked instantaneously. He broke into a cocky grin, and they held their position to catch their breath, swords crossed in front of their bodies. Laurent struggled to keep his gaze above Damen’s chin but failed and let his eyes roam down his chest as it moved with his rapid breathing.

Damen, noticing Laurent’s attention slip, suddenly twisted his sword away and drove it forward, the tip landing in the center of Laurent’s chest, blocked by the Akielon leather armor.

“Besides,” Damen amended, holding his sword to Laurent’s chest, shrugging slightly. “It is easier to make you lose focus like this.”

Laurent huffed and retreated, irritated that Damen wasn’t entirely wrong and that once again he had managed to advance on him.

“Fine,” Laurent muttered, setting his sword aside and moving his hands to his armor. He removed it quickly as Damen watched him incredulously, revealing a thin, white undershirt, unlaced down to his mid chest. Damen’s eye caught on the sliver of visible skin starting from Laurent’s collarbone.

“And you? Are you not so easily distracted?” Laurent smirked with his eyebrow cocked, picking his sword back up again. Damen didn’t answer, only chuckled and raised his weapon once more.

“I thought sparring without armor was arrogant.”

“You are arrogant. I want a level playing field so that when I end up beating you, you will have no one to blame but your overconfidence.”

This was more than enough conversation for Laurent and when he made a series of strikes this time, they were harder. He drove what he could into them, and impressively, if not frustratingly, Damen continued to block each one with a loud clash of metal on metal.

Defensive counter-moves, however, were all that Damen made. Laurent knew Damen’s reflexes, and he could identify when Damen set them aside. When Damen held himself unprotected for half a moment too long, Laurent stopped advancing and huffed, allowing Damen to bring his sword to his Laurent’s chest once more.

“I was open, why didn’t you strike?”

“Because you deliberately left yourself unguarded. While I appreciate the gesture, I lack your arrogance; I am not going to kill the man I love just to prove myself right.”

Damen froze for a moment as he absorbed those words, feeling his mouth open slightly. He moved again only to block an unanticipated strike directly towards his chest but lingered there a moment too long, unintentionally this time, and when Laurent struck again, this time at his grip with the hilt of his sword, Damen’s weapon was knocked abruptly out of his hand. Now unarmed, he took a small step backwards and was followed by Laurent’s blade. Moving quickly to avoid Laurent’s pursuit, he shuffled backwards, but his heart was beating too hard against his chest, his head was slightly blurred, and eventually his speed caught up to him. Before he could register that he was falling, Damen landed on his back in the dirt, feeling the wind abruptly force itself out of his lungs.

“I knew you were easily distracted,” Laurent said simply, moving to stand above Damen and extend his sword down toward him. Laurent’s words were still battering around Damen’s head, new and delicate. He was lightheaded and out of breath and could not honestly contribute either of those entirely to the fall.

“This is why you need armor,” Laurent teased. Damen carefully propped himself up slightly on his elbows, forgetting entirely about the sword that landed only a few feet from him.

“Laurent -” The word came with effort and Laurent ignored it and instead tightened the gap between his weapon and his lover.

“Yield,” Laurent commanded firmly as he held his sword in place, letting it hover an inch above the hollow of Damen’s throat.

“Laurent -”

“Yield.”

Laurent pressed the tip of his sword to Damen’s chest as it rose and fell, just hard enough to make contact with the muscle over his heart. Beneath his cool composure, Laurent’s eyes were sparkling and Damen couldn’t look anywhere else as he whispered, breathless, “I yield.”

Laurent hesitated for just a moment before withdrawing his sword and taking only a single step back. He watched as Damen scrambled to his feet, leaving his weapon forgotten on the ground.

“That was the first time…I mean that you’ve never-” Damen couldn’t seem to find the words. Laurent cocked an eyebrow.

“What, beat you? There is a first time for everything, Damianos.” Laurent turned around to hide the victorious smirk that was growing on his face, busying himself with returning his sword back to the wall.

Damen chuckled and followed after Laurent a little clumsily, wrapping his arms around Laurent’s slender waist and kissed him softly on the nape of his neck. Laurent let himself smile. He knew that he could act as difficult as he desired but he could not take back what he had said and Damen was not a fool.

“I love you too.” The words were quiet and earnest and they all but branded themselves onto Laurent’s heart.

Laurent let the silence sit for a moment before turning around in Damen’s arms to face him. “Is that why you surrendered so easily?”

“Laurent,” Damen whispered, brushing a lock of gold hair out of Laurent’s face, which was now pink and warm with exertion. “I surrendered to you long ago.”

Damen hooked a finger beneath Laurent’s chin and held his gaze for a moment before leaning down to plant a soft kiss on his lips. Laurent placed his palm over Damen’s heart, exactly where he had held his sword, and surrendered in return.


	2. Fade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The scars on Damen's back are harder for Laurent to ignore when they're sleeping side-by-side.

Laurent couldn’t sleep but Damen had passed out beside him a long while ago ago, curling up on his side. It made him appear remarkably smaller than he did while he was awake and alert. It was almost paradoxical, a man of Damen’s stature lying sedated, peaceful, and sound asleep and Laurent couldn’t help but to stare. 

Damen’s back moved with his breathing. It was riddled with long lines of scar tissue, well-maintained, but still visible. They weren’t easy to look at. Laurent simply avoided it when he could, but it was harder to avert his gaze in private.

He thought for a moment about pulling the sheets up around Damen’s shoulders but decided against it; he was a warm sleeper and he would wake up overheated and uncomfortable. So instead, he remained still in the dark, his eyes fixated on the scars he didn’t like looking at.

Carefully, he reached out to one of the gashes and slowly ran a single finger over a long scar, across his spine and back again.

If Damen thought about these often, Laurent would had no idea. They refrained from talking about them. The experience seemed foreign to him at this point. Clouded with rage so dark it could have blinded him. It was ironic, almost, that the one man who, for years, caused him so much pain turned out to be the only man who could take it away - the only one who cared to try.

Laurent would do the same if he could. He leaned forward slightly and gently pressed his lips to a particularly long scar that ran across Damen’s shoulder blade. A million kisses couldn’t cover up what he’d done, but he would give them anyway, even if they were in vain. Laurent pressed another. And another. And another, tracing a line of kisses down his skin.

“They don’t hurt, you know.” Damen’s voice, quiet and sleepy, startled Laurent for just a moment, making him freeze slightly, his lips still close enough to breathe silently on Damen’s shoulder. He didn’t know what to say to that, so he said nothing at all and let a long moment of silence settle between them. It wasn’t awkward but it was heavy.

“I didn’t intend to wake you,” Laurent whispered. It was the truth - he had been as gentle as he could.

Damen rolled around to his other side to face him, reaching out to tuck a strand of blonde hair around his ear.

“Have you slept?” Laurent shook his head and Damen continued to sift fine hair through his fingers. “It’s late. We have a meeting at dawn.”

“I know.” His reached out to rest his hand on Damen’s chest, which made his hands look small and pale. He could feel the thud of a heartbeat against his fingertips. A heart he swore for a long time to stop. His fingers traveled to his shoulder and traced the scar there, one different in nature from those that covered Damen’s back. Neither of them said anything for some time, both silently taking in the other.

“They really don’t bother me anymore.” Damen didn’t have to verbalize what he was talking about. “I often forget that they are even there.”

“They don’t look good,” Laurent said eventually, his palm flattening against the wound on Damen’s shoulder, which was smaller and lighter than those on his back, having the advantage of years of healing.

“No, I assume they don’t.” His hand came up to engulf Laurents’, pressing it further into his own chest. Laurent didn’t move or respond, just stared at their hands in silent reverence.

“I doubt they will ever go away completely.” Damen’s words were hardly more than a whisper, and Laurent tried forcing himself to not react to them but a small flinch escaped.

“I kn–”

“But they will fade.”

Laurent turned his gaze up at him to meet his dark eyes, still soft from sleep, and didn’t reply.

“It just takes some time,” Damen said, and pulled his mouth into a reassuring smile, one that Laurent had gotten quite used to seeing. It worked; it almost always did. The band of guilt that had woven it’s way around his chest seemed to loosen, though it didn’t disappear. “Give it time.”

He pulled Laurent’s hand away from his chest and brought it to his lips, planting a soft kiss on his knuckles. Laurent twisted his hand and traced Damen’s cheek before leaning in to kiss him. Damen kissed back, slowly and lazily; in no particular rush at all. They broke apart and Damen planted a quick kiss onto Laurent’s forehead before pulling him in closer to his chest.

With a sigh, Lauent finally let himself relax and quickly found himself lulled into sleep by the fingers in his hair.


	3. Venerated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alongside Laurent, Damen pays his respects at Auguste's grave.

They had planned the trip for weeks, and it felt surreal to at last be drawing near to their destination. Laurent hadn’t come here recently, but he still knew the area by heart. He used to visit regularly. Sometimes to mourn, sometimes to think. Until today, he had always come alone.

“It’s at the foot of that grove,” he called to Damen, who trailed behind him only slightly.

Laurent never imagined bringing anyone here, but neither did he imagine falling in love with his sworn enemy, the man who had brought his brother here at all. The juxtaposition of it was glaring and nerve-wracking.

The clearing was a small and quiet patch of thick grass, partially encircled by grand, wide trees. The sun hung low in the sky, turning all their leaves a soft gold color.

Laurent slid from the saddle without a word as Damen did the same.

“I’ll tie up the horses,” Damen offered, taking the reins from Laurent’s hands. Laurent watched him walk the animals towards a nearby tree before looking around the small clearing he was more than familiar with. He found himself gravitating towards his brother naturally and reverently, until he found himself at a thick tree trunk. Lying in front of it, there was a gravestone made of white marble. The same white marble that the floors of Arles were crafted from.

Nothing had changed since he had last been here, not that he had expected it to.

Damen joined him then, slipping his fingers into Laurent’s hand, wordlessly.

Nothing, except for that.

They were both silent for a while, standing still, their hands still enclosed in one another. The only sound to be heard was a slight wind.

"I’m sorry I stripped you away from from him so soon.“ The words, spoken in Veretian, were sincere and honest, the way Damen always was. Laurent let them hang in the air, unsure of how to respond.

“If it were in my power….If I had known, I would not have….” Damen trailed off, his typically articulate speech struggling to find its balance. Laurent cut in, wrapping his hand around Damen’s forearm.

“I know, you don’t need–”

“You would be proud of him.” Laurent drew his brows together at this before finally glancing at Damen, who kept his gaze transfixed on the ground in front of him. He waited for Damen to turn and face him, and when it didn’t happen, Laurent felt his heart constrict at the realization.

Damen wasn’t talking to him.

“He’s the best man I’ve ever known. I am led to believe you had a great hand in that.”

This is not what Laurent had expected. In his mind he anticipated an awkward and sad silence - he had readied himself for that. He did not prepare for the heavy, peaceful air that settled around them, weighing him down, leaving him breathless. This was not the first time Damen had defied what Laurent expected from him, nor would it be the last, but it seemed to hit him with unprecedented force. He remained silent.

“His strength would astound you. His heart has grown to be true and loyal. We are building something great. Something peaceful.” Damen turned his gaze to Laurent for the first time since they had arrived, smiling warmly. “And I will care for him while you cannot.”

Laurent felt like his breathing had stopped, and he tried to smile back at Damen but he felt entirely frozen in place.

Damen stepped forward slightly, something in his hand that Laurent had not noticed, and slowly, carefully, Damen fell to his knee, placing on the ground in front of him a laurel.

When he stood again, Laurent met his gaze carefully, all too aware that his face was open and vulnerable.

“In Akielos, it is customary to give respects vocally,” Damen explained as he reached his hand up to Laurent’s head to tuck some of his hair, windblown and out of place, behind his ear.

Laurent nodded, leaning into the touch, planting a soft kiss in Damen’s palm. “Thank you.”

Laurent did not take a turn of his own speaking to his late brother, but as he placed his hand back into Damen’s, he could feel the words he would say engraved in his mind, soft and poignant.

He will care for me while you cannot.


End file.
